Shattered Glass: Beast Wars
by LAXgirl
Summary: The war for primitive Earth rages between the tyrannical Maximal warlord, Optimus Primal, and the noble Predacon leader, Megatron, and his crew of explorers-turned-protectors of Earth. Ch 3: You asked for them! Silverbolt and Quickstrike enter the fray!
1. Chapter 1

This idea came completely out of the blue after stumbling across the _Transformers Timelines: Shattered Glass_ comic whose entire premise is basically Evil!Autobots verses Good!Decepticons. It was such an interesting concept it wouldn't leave me alone until I adapted it to the Beast Wars universe. Enjoy at your own risk.

_Disclaimer_: Nothing's mine. Don't sue. I'm serious. I have no money.

**Shattered Glass: Beast Wars**

The vines had come seemingly out of nowhere. Neither Airazor or Tigatron had seen the fibrous lengths of plant matter slithering through the grass until it was already too late and they were caught in the strange plant's grasp. Vines coiled around their arms, legs and chests. One had even snaked around Airazor's throat. The two scouts thrashed and kicked against the constricting vines, desperately trying to shake them off and make a mad dash for safety. But all their efforts were useless. Whatever it was this giant energy-emitting plant they'd stumbled across in the wilds of primitive Earth was, it was unlike any other indigenous fauna the female flier had seen before. Nothing Airazor did seemed able to loosen the plant's hold on her or prevent even more vines from winding around her and solidifying their dominance over her. Mech-fluid and panic pounded in Airazor's audios. Several feet away from her, her fellow scout and lover desperately struggled against a dozen slithering vines. But Airazor already knew his efforts would ultimately prove as useless as her own.

"Tigatron!" she cried as loud as she could around the vine crushing her throat. The Siberian tiger looked up and found her through the snarl of twisting green vines entangling them.

Their optics met. A look of quiet understanding and acceptance passed between them. Neither one of them was escaping this. This was the end.

"Tigatron…" Airazor whispered. The vine around her throat made the other scout's name garbled and barely audible even to her own audios. If this really was the end the only regret she had was that she couldn't meet it with her lover's arms around her or at least holding his hand. She didn't want to go into the Matrix without Tigatron by her side.

Her lover seemed to understand her desire and reached one hand out towards her, the tension cables all the way up his arm quivering with the effort of fighting against the vines. "Airazor," he called between gritted teeth.

Airazor reached out towards him, straining against the vines encircling her wrist and elbow.

A strange glowing light had begun to build around them. The air suddenly seemed charged with electricity. Airazor felt the air around her begin to hum with energy - like a generator slowly cycling up to full power.

Tigatron's fingers brushed against the tips of her own. Mustering every last ounce of effort she had, the flier strained across the last few inches separating her from her lover and intertwined her fingers with his, holding onto him as if he somehow possessed the means of their escape. They stared into each other optics, both of them knowing that such a thing was not an option to them any longer.

"Whatever happens to us… wherever we go…" Tigatron called to her as the strange sub-sonic humming reached a deafening pitch. "My spark will find you!"

The light was almost too bright now to keep her optics online. All Airazor could really see was the faint outline of Tigatron's helm and shoulders between the twisting lengths of vines and the washed-out black stripes of his armor against the glaring white light around them.

"As will… mine!" Airazor cried with her last little bit of strength. The vines were so tightly coiled around her they had begun to crush her internal parts. She heard more than felt something inside her chest cavity _pop_ and shift under the crushing pressure in a direction she was sure it wasn't meant to go. She squeezed Tigatron's fingers tighter if only to reassure herself he was still there with her in her last few moments of function.

The supernatural glow around them deepened, blinding her to anything else but a sea of endless white light. The humming vibration was so powerful it felt as if the very fabric of the universe was being torn apart around her.

No longer able to see her lover's face through the blinding glow, Airazor nonetheless felt Tigatron's fingers tighten around hers as though in answer.

The vines squeezed tighter. Airazor could no longer feel her body. Everything had gone numb. She could no longer even feel Tigatron's fingers around hers. The low vibrations increased. Then it felt as though she was falling away from herself as the light rushed forward to claim her and whisk her away into oblivion…

…

…

…

Airazor came back to herself with a violent jerk. There was no moment of groggy disorientation or slow waking - just a sudden, frame-rattling jolt that brought her immediately back to full awareness. She lay on the ground in the middle of a grassy field. Low mountains lined one whole section of the horizon to her right. The sky between them glowed a fiery orange - the last traces of daylight as the sun slipped around the curve of the earth. Twilight was sweeping in overhead. Several stars had already begun to glitter against the deepening backdrop of purple.

That was strange. The last thing she remembered it was the middle of the day -the sun still on its upwards arc over her head and the sky an endless sheet of blue. She remembered that very clearly because Tigatron had commented on what a beautiful day it was turning out to be before they'd come across the strange plant…

_Tigatron!_

Airazor felt no actual pain as she frantically forced herself to her knees and looked around, but her entire frame twinged with the residual ache of being roughly squeezed. She vaguely remembered being crushed by vines before everything had suddenly gone white and she'd woken up here. Pushing herself to her knees, the flier looked around and immediately noticed the white figure laying on the grass beside her.

"Tigatron!" she cried, throwing herself at the still figure. "Tigatron, answer me!"

The Siberian tiger groaned through his vents as she roughly shook him by the shoulder. "Airazor..?" he groggily murmured as his optics flickered online. "What happened?" He seemed to regain his senses and pushed himself up to sit. He looked around them with a confused expression. "How did we get here? The last thing I remember was that strange plant…"

"I don't know," Airazor shook her head, as equally confused as her lover. "It looks like we're a few miles east of the Axalon. But how we got back here from that valley I haven't the faintest idea."

His facial plates etched with a lingering look of bewilderment, Tigatron got to his pedes. Airazor got up to stand beside him. Only the faintest hint of pink remained in the western corner of the sky. The soft glow of Airazor and Tigatron's optics were the only thing to give off any source of light and illuminated the contours of their faces.

"We should return to base and report this to Optimus," he said. "Whatever that plant was seems to possess at least several unnatural properties - one of them the ability to apparently transport individuals across long distances."

"Agreed," Airazor nodded.

Together, the two scouts converted to beast-mode and started off in the direction of the Maximals' downed starship. Within an hour, the Axalon came within sight.

"Thank Primus," Airazor murmured, flying low over Tigatron. "Who would have ever thought the Axalon would look so inviting. I don't remember half of what happened today, but I'm exhausted."

Tigatron didn't immediately answer. As they came within the last half mile of it, the scout's demeanor became increasingly tense.

"What is it?" Airazor asked.

Tigatron squinted into the darkness at the approaching ship. "I don't know. Perhaps my optics are not working at one hundred percent capacity because of our inexplicably swift transport here, but is it my imagination or does the Axalon look slightly… different to you?"

Airazor followed her lover's gaze towards the downed starship. At first glance, the starship looked exactly the way it did a few days ago when she and Tigatron had left to go on an extended scouting mission - a non-flyable heap of twisted metal from not one, but _two_, crash landings. It was only as she examined the details of the ship that she finally understood what Tigatron was talking about.

A series of large scorch marks covered the entire underbelly of the Axalon and a majority of its port side as though it'd survived some kind of vicious firefight. Even from a distance she could make out a number of hastily constructed patches on its lower hull.

"What happened here?" she said in a horrified whisper. "It looks like the others had to fight off Megatron and half a dozen squads of ticked off Preds.

"Perhaps there was some kind of battle," Tigatron suggested. "Although I'm not sure why Optimus or one of the others wouldn't have contacted us to return to base to help if there was."

Airazor glanced down at Tigatron. "What if something bad happened to them and they _couldn't_ contact us for help? What if…" She couldn't bring herself to finish that line of code.

"We mustn't jump to conclusions," Tigatron said. "Let us first investigate before we fear the worst."

Almost in answer to Tigatron's suggestion, the Axalon's spotlights flared on, bathing the two scouts in a pool of brilliant yellow light. The muffled hum of Sentinel's perimeter guns coming online and swiveling around on their bases to lock on their position sounded from several different points around them. Blinded by the sudden surge of light, Airazor dipped low and transformed to her bi-pedal form with a graceful flap of her wings. Tigatron transformed beside her. They both stood in the pool of light motionless.

"Why isn't Sentinel standing down?" Airazor whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

Tigatron shook his head. "Perhaps they deactivated Sentinel's signal detector. If Megatron attacked while we were away and they had to put Sentinel on full alert it won't immediately recognize our energy signatures."

For several minutes the two scouts stood perfectly still. Any movement would have immediately triggered Sentinel to open fire on them. Finally, after what felt like forever to the anxious flier, a low hum sounded as the gun turrets powered down and swiveled away from them. The floodlights above them abruptly shut off.

"Let's go," Tigatron said.

Airazor nodded.

The two quickly made their way to the underbelly of the ship where one of the lifts was already waiting for them. They stepped inside. Almost immediately the lift began to rise. As she and Tigatron rose, Airazor couldn't help but feel that something wasn't quite right. The feeling had been haunting her ever since she'd woken up in the field. Being unexplainably teleported several hundred miles by a giant energy-producing plant was certainly not normal, but there was something else needling her neural sensors. Something just felt… _off_.

The lift finally came to a stop and the reinforced glass door slid open with a pneumatic _whoosh_. Airazor was just about to step out when she suddenly found herself staring down the barrel of a laser gun which seemed to have magically appeared out of nowhere in front of her. Airazor was so startled, she immediately froze in place.

"Who are you?" a voice snarled. "What are you doing here looking like that?"

Airazor shook herself out of her paralyzed trace to look up. Cheetor stood in front of her, his optics narrowed with suspicion. He thrust his blaster closer to her like he was really trying to stab her with it. "I said who are you?" he demanded. "You better start talking fast or I'm going to blow a hole straight through your sparkchamber." His once bright yellow paint job gleamed a dirty tan in the gloom of the bridge.

"Ch-Cheetor! It's us!" Airazor cried, holding her hands up in front of her. "Airazor and Tigatron! Don't you recognize us?"

"Yeah right," the young Maximal hissed. "Airazor and Tigatron were killed in the alien quantum surge months ago. I don't know what kind of cheap trick Megatron is trying to pull by sending two people who look like them here, but it's not going to work." The blaster aimed at Airazor's chest loomed closer.

"No!" Tigatron said, pushing himself in between Airazor and the gun to shield her. "We really are who we say! We were conducting a long-distance scouting mission in the north and came across a strange plant that gave off an alien energy signature. It captured us in its vines and began to act like a giant generator. One moment we were there, the next we were waking up in the middle of a field several miles east of here."

This explanation seemed to take Cheetor by surprise, but his gun didn't waver from them. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to fall for a story like that?" he scoffed. His facial plates warped into an expression of contemptuous disgust. The blaster in his hand hummed with deadly intent. "You know what, slag this. I'm just going to kill you and let Optimus sort it out later."

Airazor stared at their young comrade, unable to make what he said really compute. What was going on? Never had she seen Cheetor pull a weapon on a fellow comrade before or threaten to deactivate them. Never had she heard him speak in such a cold, calculating manner. In front of her, Tigatron tensed as Cheetor held his blaster out straight and pressed his finger to the trigger.

"Cheetor! Stand down!" a voice roared from deeper inside the bridge.

"Oh, come on, Rhinox," Cheetor growled, still glaring at the two scouts. "There's no way they're really who they say they are. Airazor and Tigatron were killed months ago. This has to be some kind of Pred trick."

"That's for Optimus to decide," Rhinox rumbled as he stepped closer to the lift Tigatron and Airazor huddled inside. The engineer looked them up and down with a suspicious sneer. "Only he gets to decide when to execute prisoners."

Cheetor sneered. "What a bunch of flaming slag," he cursed. "Optimus is going soft if he starts letting disguised Preds in here like they belong."

With speed that belied his hulking size, Rhinox lunged forward and grabbed Cheetor by the throat, lifting him several inches off the ground. The young Maximal clawed at the thick fingers suddenly wrapped around his throat cables. Gargled, choked off sounds were the only things able to escape his gasping mouth. Airazor and Tigatron both shrank back against the lift's back wall, unsure of what to make of this unforeseen display of violence between their crewmates.

Rhinox drew Cheetor closer to him so that he could meet the younger Maximal's bulging optics. "Understand this," he growled into Cheetor's face. "Anymore smart talk from you about how Optimus is running this war will only end with you in the scrapheap with a crater in your chest where your sparkchamber used to be. And don't think for a nano-klick I won't be the first one to volunteer to do it too." He drew Cheetor even closer to him. "Understand?"

Pure hatred burned in the racer's optics, but he mutely nodded.

"Good," Rhinox snarled. Then - in a movement that was almost too fast for Airazor's stunned processor to follow - turned and threw Cheetor away from him against the nearest wall. Cheetor hit the wall with a sickening crunch and slid to the floor in a jumbled heap. Airazor and Tigatron stood as still as statues inside the lift as Cheetor painfully pushed himself off the floor into a sitting position and glared at Rhinox. His optics burned with hate.

"What's going on here?" a low voice rumbled from the other side of the bridge.

Airazor looked over to see Optimus Primal striding through the door. His blood-red optics swept across the bridge, taking in the scene. His gaze finally came to rest on Airazor and Tigatron. His expression flickered with surprise before immediately morphing into one of guarded suspicion like Cheetor and Rhinox had greeted them with.

Airazor refused to read too much into that and instead focused on the wave of relief she felt at Optimus's appearance. If anyone could restore order to the madness she and Tigatron had returned to, it was Optimus.

"Optimus," she greeted. Regaining some measure of confidence in the world now that their leader was there, Airazor ventured to slink past Rhinox out of the lift to meet him. "Thank Primus. You have no idea what kind of-"

She was abruptly cut off by the hum of the high-powered fusion gun mounted on Optimus's forearm being shoved in her face. The flier froze, her processor freezing in confused panic. What was going on? This was now the second time she'd had one of her crewmates pull a weapon on her like she was an enemy.

"Who are you?" Optimus snarled.

"It's us! Who else?" Airazor cried. This was starting to become too much. After being instantly transported several hundred miles by a mysterious plant, this was not the type of homecoming she'd been hoping to receive from her crewmates.

"Airazor and Tigatron were killed in an alien quantum surge months ago," the transmetal gorilla growled. "Their bodies were dismantled and used for spare parts." His arm-mounted fusion gun hummed louder. "Now, tell me what Megatron is hoping to accomplish by sending two spies here disguised as them."

"Megatron has nothing to do with this," Tigatron insisted, cautiously stepping out of the lift to stand beside Airazor. He had his hands held up by his shoulders in the universal sign of surrender. "We really are who we say. We were in the north on a long-range scouting mission when we came across a strange planet in a secluded valley." Quickly, he retold his and Airazor's story for what felt like the tenth time in the last half hour.

Optimus did not seem impressed when the scout finally concluded his tale with them arriving at the Axalon, however. "That's a very interesting story. But you must think me a fool if you think I'm actually going to believe that after I saw my minions' dead bodies and even had several injuries healed by protomatter recovered from their corpses grafted onto my own frame." The transmetal gorilla slowly leaned closer. "Now tell me, who are you really?" The unspoken threat of physical harm hung from each word like heavy, invisible weights.

Airazor cast Tigatron a frantic look. What were they to do? Their comrades didn't believe they really were who they said. They thought they'd been killed and that she and Tigatron were really imposters! Nothing that was happening made any sense. Why did they think they were dead when they were standing right in front of them? How could they prove their identity before they were blasted into pieces?

Tigatron seemed at just as much of a loss as Airazor. Suddenly, the flier had an idea.

"Check our energy signatures!" she blurted out. "No one can fake an energy signature! That will prove who we are!"

Optimus glared at her as though he expected this to be some kind of trick. He glanced at Rhinox. "Do it," he snapped. His fusion gun did not waver from the pair.

The engineer lumbered towards the holo-table in the middle of the room and punched in a series of codes. The computer chirped as its sensors made a quick scan of the bridge's occupants. Rhinox reared backwards from the display when the computer listed its findings a few seconds later. "Their energy signatures match Airazor and Tigatron's exactly," he said. He looked backwards over one spiked shoulder guard and cast the two scouts a look of incredulous surprise.

"That's impossible," Cheetor growled. He'd finally dragged himself back up onto his pedes. "It's got to be some kind of computer malfunction. Just let me blast them and be done with it."

There was the muffled _pomph_ of a fusion gun discharging which was immediately followed by the sound of charged ions exploding against metal. A spot on the ground several inches in front of Cheetor's right pede was a shallow crater of charred black. Optimus let his arm fall back to his side, the barrel of his forearm gun smoking little wisps of gray.

"Do not push me, Cheetor," he growled in a dangerously low voice. "You forget who is the leader here and who is the subordinate. _I_ am the one who makes the decisions around here; not you. Do not make me have to remind you of that again like I did last time…"

Cheetor's answer was a venomous glare that would have left Optimus as a puddle of smelted metal if it were physically possible.

Airazor could only stare at the two. What had happened? Cheetor and Optimus were usually like inseparable brothers. But now they were treating each other like hated rivals. She decided not to ask any questions about it until after several other, more important issues were cleared up first.

Optimus had finally swung his fusion gun away from her and Tigatron. Although he no longer had a weapon trained on them, his optics seemed to physically pierce them with their intense gaze. "This is either a very elaborate trick or we are faced with a very interesting conundrum. The computer has confirmed that you are Airazor and Tigatron, but you are obviously not the Airazor and Tigatron we knew - they are dead."

"I am beginning to suspect we are not the Airazor and Tigatron you knew either," Tigatron said. "I have noticed several…" he glanced between Optimus and Cheetor uneasily, "differences since arriving here. I am forced to wonder if that plant didn't just transport us across distance but perhaps across time and space as well."

"What are you saying?" Cheetor hissed from the far side of the bridge away from everyone else. "That you two are from some kind of different dimension?"

"Parallel dimensions have been theorized as being mathematical possible," Rhinox said.

Optimus's optics narrowed thoughtfully at the two scouts. A sly grin pulled at the corners of his lips. "How very interesting…" he murmured.

"You can't seriously be buying this, Optimus!" Cheetor cried. "Parallel dimensions are nothing but theorized fantasy! The odds of them actually being from-"

Anything else Cheetor might have said was abruptly cut off by another fusion blast from Optimus that slammed into the young Maximal's left shoulder. The racer crumbled backwards against the wall with a howl of pain, holding his shoulder. The blast had not been meant to kill or seriously wound, but Optimus had made sure to put enough energy in it to partially melt Cheetor's armor and fry his internal circuitry beneath. The smell of burnt protomatter filled the bridge.

"This is your last warning, Cheetor, about questioning my judgment," Optimus growled. "One more word from you and I will permanently deactivate your glitching little aft. And just to make sure you remember this lesson, you are not allowed to use the CR chamber to repair yourself. You can wait for your self-repair systems to do that."

Turning his attention back to the now thoroughly frightened scouts, Optimus went on as if he'd never been interrupted. Airazor was beginning to wonder if she really wasn't caught in the midst of some stress-induced nightmare. "The fact that Airazor and Tigatron are here when we know they were killed in this world proves the existence of parallel dimensions." The transmetal gorilla stepped closer to them, eyeing them hungrily. "No matter how that plant - if that's really what it was - managed to transport you from your dimension to ours is a fascinating but not necessarily urgent question. All that matters is that you are here now. The addition of two to my army's forces is an opportunity that cannot be passed up. With your return to the ranks, we will outnumber Megatron and his crew and finally be able to crush him once and for all." He eyed each of them in turn: first Airazor, then Tigatron. Airazor shuddered under his gaze. Although he was shorter than Tigatron by several inches, Optimus's intimidating presence seemed to completely invade Airazor's personal space. "What say you? Are you still loyal to the Maximal cause and its complete destruction of the Predacons? Do you still recognize me as your leader and swear to follow me to the end, whether that be in glory or termination?" The Maximal sigil on his shoulder gleamed a malevolent purple in the dim light.

Airazor shared a frightened look out of the corner of her optic with Tigatron. After everything she'd just witnessed she wasn't sure what to make of anything anymore. But the idea of disagreeing with Optimus's request did not seem like the wisest course of action. "O-of course," she shakily said. Beside her, Tigatron timidly nodded his consent as well.

Optimus rewarded them with a grin. "Good." Airazor couldn't help but feel the acknowledgement carried with it a reminder of the harm that would have come to them if they had said no.

The chirp of the ship's comm-system sounded. _"Hey yo, Boss Monkey."_ a familiar voice called over the line. _"Ya might wanna come down to da brig. I think we might'a finally made da bug wanna talk. But ya might wanna hurry, 'cause he might not live long enough fer ya ta question him if ya take yer sweet time gettin' here."_

"It's about time. You've had Waspinator at your disposal for more than two solar cycles. I was beginning to think you'd lost your touch, Rattrap," Optimus replied. His tone was full of condescension.

There was an angry sound from the other side of the line. _"It wouldn't a taken so long if I hadn't had ta handhold Dinobot through da entire interrogation. Ya know how squeamish he gets 'round spilt mech-fluid. He hates gettin' his claws dirty."_

"And that is your problem to rectify," Optimus snapped. "You were the one that insisted he could become a working member of the Maximals after he was captured and turned to our side. If he is unable or unwilling to conform to our ways, then I will see to it that he is removed as a liability to our cause."

"_Aw, cool yer circuits,"_ Rattrap groaned. _"He did his part, an' da bug's in no condition ta put up anymore of a fight 'gainst questions. Wha' more d'ya want?"_

Optimus's lips twisted into a snarl. "I will be there in a few minutes." He abruptly cut the comm-line off. "Come," he said to Airazor and Tigatron. "Perhaps you've come back to us at the perfect time." The scouts silently fell into step behind him as Optimus led them into the main part of the ship. "A few days ago we managed to capture Waspinator while he was out on patrol. We've been-" he gave a throaty chuckle under his breath "-_vigorously_ interrogating him ever since in hopes that he will reveal some useful Predacon intelligence to us, but so far he's maintained his silence." He glanced back over his shoulder with a decidedly evil grin. "Until now that is…"

Airazor and Tigatron shared troubled looks. It went without saying that something wasn't right here. Airazor had only been with the Axalon crew for little more than a year now, but had come to deeply respect Optimus Primal and her fellow crewmates over that time. Never had she witnessed such brutality amongst her comrades like she'd seen since arriving there. The Optimus she knew was peaceful, kind and fair. This Optimus frightened her to her very core. Unconsciously, she moved closer to Tigatron until that her shoulder guard almost touched his.

Within minutes, the three arrived in the ship's lowest deck. Airazor had never been this deep in the ship before; she'd never had a reason to venture so far. In her world, she and her fellow Maximals had never had any reason to use the Axalon's brig. By the confident ease of which Optimus strode down the halls, however, it seemed as though he'd walked this path on more than one or two occasions. The lighting was darker down here - the halogen bulbs running down the length of the hallway weakly sputtering on and off in several places. Shadows seemed to seep from the walls as if the ceiling panels were bleeding oily tar. Empty holding cells lined either side of the hall. Tigatron slipped his hand into Airazor's as if seeking his own reassurance from her. She readily returned his grip.

Up ahead at the end of the hall, the doorway of one cell shined with light. Optimus headed directly towards it. As they neared Airazor became distressingly aware of the stench of burnt ozone, processed energon waste and - possibly the most disturbing of all - the ionized reek of mech fluid. And _lots_ of it if the intensity of the smell was any indicator. She had to physically force back a gag of revulsion as they neared the door of the cell and was met by an even denser cloud of vileness.

"Here," Optimus said, his tone almost excited as he veered inside. Airazor and Tigatron hesitantly followed him inside. Airazor gasped at the sight she was confronted with. Tigatron stiffened with horror beside her.

In the middle of the cell a pair of manacled chains hung from the ceiling. A limp body hung from them by the wrists, his pede tips swinging an inch or two above the ground. Airazor at first didn't recognize the mangled form. Waspinator's distinctive green and yellow superstructure was covered by layers of half dried mech-fluid and energon. A pool of brackish purple fluid congealed on the floor beneath him. The Predacon flier's chest plate was missing, his internal wiring and sparkchamber completely exposed to view. One corner of his sparkchamber's glass front was etched with spider web cracks. Airazor tried to avert her optics out of modesty, but could not seem to make her body respond to her processor's commands. Horror robbed her of all voluntary movement. Waspinator's body lazily swung back and forth in the air from the ends of the chains. Painful looking dents, cuts and burn marks seemed to cover every inch of his superstructure. The protomatter beneath his armor was blistered and wept mech-fluid. As Airazor stared in silent revulsion the wires in his left shoulder shorted and sent a shower of electrical sparks arching up between his armor plating into the air. Waspinator's head hung down the middle of his chest, but Airazor still heard the low whine of misery that escaped from between his mandibles. His body weakly twitched against his bonds.

"Hey, boss. Nice ta see ya finally here," a voice called from the corner of the room to Airazor's right. Rattrap sat in a chair with his feet propped up on top of a metallic case, the front two legs of his seat tipped back off the ground in a reclining position. Lazily rocking back and forth, Rattrap was cleaning the tip of a nasty looking electrical prod with a fluid stained rag. Behind him, leaning against the wall was Dinobot. The former Predacon warrior seemed indifferent to their arrival and merely glanced in their direction before crossing his arms across his bulky chest and looking away as though bored by the proceedings.

Optimus stared at Waspinator's mangled form before looking back at Rattrap. "Is he still functional enough to speak?"

The spy shrugged. "Eh. Should be. He was certainly makin' enough noise before I comm-ed ya." The sadistic grin he gave Optimus chilled Airazor straight down to her core. He finally seemed to notice Airazor and Tigatron standing there. He tipped his chair back down onto all four legs with a hollow crack and leaned forward to stare at them with sudden suspicion. His hand shied down to the blaster on his hip. "Wha 're dey doin' here? Weren't dey killed a few months back? I swear I remember peelin' their protomatter off fer Rhinox ta store."

"It's a long story I do not feel like explaining at the moment," Optimus curtly informed him. "Suffice it to say that they are our missing comrades returned from the grave."

Rattrap seemed unconvinced but did not try to push the issue. He sullenly leaned back in his chair and tilted the front two legs back off the ground.

"What methods did you use on him?" Optimus asked as he took a step closer to their silent captive.

Rattrap chuckled darkly. "Wha' methods _didn't_ we use? Got ta use all my toys on da fragger twice through." He tapped the metal case under his feet with the top of one pede.

Dinobot finally rattled himself out of his silence. He threw Waspinator an annoyed glare. "He was most obstinate. It took us eight hours of continual torture just to make him plead for mercy, and then another forty before he finally admitted that Megatron is planning something against us. But he still refuses to give us any details as to what that might be." The velociraptor made a low growl through his vents. "It was most irksome. If I must listen to anymore of that annoying insect's screams, I swear I will go insane."

"Aw," Rattrap cooed and reached one hand up over his shoulder to pat the warrior's forearm. "I told'ja those're an acquired taste. Just give it some time an' you'll come ta appreciate 'em. A good interrogation is like a symphony. Ya just need ta get over dat last lil' bit of Predacon coding ya have, an' den you'll really be able ta get inta it."

"I find the entire idea of torture, interrogation and prolonged deactivation completely tiresome," Dinobot sighed. "It is a waste of time and energy, and is unforgivably messy."

Rattrap chuckled. "Like I said: ya just haven't had da opportunity ta learn ta appreciate it yet."

Dinobot heaved a disgruntled sigh, and against all expectations seemed to calm under Rattrap's touch. Smirking victoriously, the spy rubbed his hand down Dinobot's forearm before finally turning back around in his seat.

Airazor and Tigatron stared at the two in silent, shell-shocked confusion. Since when did Dinobot and Rattrap get along? And when in the entire _history_ of them knowing each other did they so openly interact and touch except to try and rip each other's throat cables out? Airazor didn't know what was more disturbing: Rattrap's open love for torture; Dinobot's dislike for his former profession; or their mutual contentment in each other's presence.

Optimus, meanwhile, completely ignored the two. He strode forward until he stood directly in front of Waspinator. The pool of half dried mech-fluid and waste on the floor squelched underneath his pedes. Reaching out, the transmetal gorilla grabbed Waspinator by the jaw plate and savagely forced his head back. The flier gave a warbled cry of pain, his optics weakly flickering as though he was only barely holding onto the edge of consciousness. Optimus loomed down over Waspinator. "What is Megatron planning?" he demanded without any preamble.

Waspinator seemed to have trouble converting speech into processed code and merely stared up at Optimus with glazed optics.

Growling with impatience, Optimus curled one hand into a fist and slammed it into the flier's exposed sparkchamber. Waspinator screeched in pain, his body convulsing on the ends of the chains. Optimus's hold on Waspinator's jaw became crushing. The flier keened and weakly tried to free himself from Optimus's grip.

"Do not make me ask again, insect."

"W-Wazzpinator d-doezzn't know! Wazzpinator knowz nothing!" The flier's voice hitched with the strain of forming coherent words.

"Wrong answer," Optimus growled. Looking over his shoulder, he held his hand out towards Rattrap. "Rattrap!" he snarled. The spy tossed him the electric prod he'd just been cleaning. "Now let's try this again, shall we?" Optimus said as he turned back to Waspinator with the prod held high enough for his captive to see. Its pronged end crackled with energy. "What is Megatron planning?"

Waspinator's ventilation systems kicked into panicked hitches as he stared at the electrified device. "W-wazzzpinator already told! Wazzpinator doezzn't know!"

The prod was thrust against the front of Waspinator's sparkchamber. The flier's strained vocals filled with static as he arched backwards, screaming. His body wildly convulsed against the bonds. Currents of electrical blue light crackled up and down his frame, illuminating the edges of his armor from behind. Smoke curled up from his superstructure. The stench of fried protomatter - a smell similar to burning rubber - filled the room. From his chair in the corner, Rattrap leaned back in his seat and shuttered his optics like a connoisseur of fine music savoring the sounds of a skilled orchestra. Dinobot turned his head away as though bored by the tediousness of Optimus's task.

Airazor covered her mouth with one hand to stop the press of half processed energon rising in the back of her intake line.

Optimus finally removed the prod from Waspinator's sparkchamber. The flier went limp and hung from the end of his chains. Tendrils of smoke curled off Waspinator's body. His entire body shuddering with stress, the flier was unable to stop himself from vomiting a gush of watery liquid down his front. It dripped off the edge of his sternum strut to join the pool of fluids beneath him.

"Tell me what I want to know, bug," Optimus bent to snarl in Waspinator's face. "You withholding information is not going to make this ordeal any easier on you. I will gladly continue this interrogation until your neural lines finally short out and you permanently slip into stasis."

Waspinator shuddered and coughed against another rush of phlegmy lubricant. "No… Pleazzze…" he warbled in a pitifully weak voice.

Cursing under his breath, Optimus glanced backwards over his shoulder towards Airazor and Tigatron still standing in the doorway. He reversed his hold on the prod and held it out to Tigatron handle first. "Here, my friend," he said with a dark glare at Waspinator. "Perhaps you will have better luck with him."

Tigatron reared back from the proffered weapon as though it were a live electrical wire. "I-I cannot!" he sputtered. "I could never harm another living thing!"

"What?" Optimus demanded with an incredulous stare. Even Rattrap and Dinobot raised their optic ridges in surprise. He turned to fully face the scout. "You are refusing the opportunity to interrogate an enemy prisoner? This is very unlike you, Tigatron. Interrogation was, after all, one of your many talents."

"No. Never my talent," Tigatron said, aghast by the implication of this revelation.

"Do it," Optimus growled. His tone promised violent retribution if he was not immediately obeyed. "It is not a request."

Airazor glanced between Optimus and her lover in mounting panic. This wasn't right. This wasn't like the Optimus they knew and followed. If anything, this Optimus reminded her of Megatron.

"No," Tigatron firmly shook his head.

Optimus visibly seethed with rage. His optics flashed scarlet red. Airazor and Tigatron both instinctively shrunk back from him towards the door. Before he could come at them, though, he was distracted by a soft warbled laugh from the limp figure hanging from the ceiling. All the other occupants of the room stared at Waspinator as he weakly lifted his head off his chest just enough to meet Optimus's optics.

"What is so funny, pest?" Optimus demanded.

"Thizzz… You… Every -_schzzzz_- thing," Waspinator rasped. His voice was barely louder that a whisper. His vocal processor was beginning to short, filling his speech with bursts of static. He gave another watery laugh which was pitifully weak and sounded more like a groan of pain than an actual laugh. "Optimus Primal'z - _schzzzz_ - troopz don't obey him anymore… It'zzzz only a _- schzzz_ - matter of time before purple monkey _-schzzzz_ - izz finally defeated by Megatron… and Maximalz' - _schzzz_ - tyranny stopped. Primal will _- schzzz_ - pay for hizzz crimez…"

"Is that so?" Optimus hissed, leaning closer to Waspinator. "And what crimes would those be?"

The flier mustered enough of his strength to glare up at the Maximal leader. "Murder… rape…- _schzzz_-... the willful disregard -_schzz_ - of sentient rightzzzz…"

Optimus's lips curled back from his dentals in an ugly sneer. "The only right those who do not follow me have is the right to slavery and termination."

Then, before Waspinator could say anything more, Optimus flicked on the electric prod and rammed it into the fliers chest, through the cracked glass front of his sparkchamber and into his spark. The Predacon prisoner screamed, his body violently spasming. Powerful waves of bright blue energy danced up and down his body. The stench of charred protomatter became suffocating. Waspinator's agonized screams were abruptly cut short by his vocal processor snapping from strain. He twitched and jerked for several more seconds before his spark finally sputtered and blinked offline and his body sagged limp against his chains. A dense haze of smoke filled the room around him like a funeral shroud. The handle end of Rattrap's electrical prod hung from Waspinator's charred chest like an impaled gladiator spear.

Airazor was unable to stifle a cry of revulsion and sorrow at what she'd just witnessed. No matter how hard she tried she could not make the scene she'd just seen compute. Optimus Primal had just violently offlined a 'bot - a helpless, injured prisoner. This was _not _the Optimus she and Tigatron knew.

Slowly, the Maximal tyrant turned back towards them, his optics glowing with cold fury. Neither she or Tigatron had to say anything before they simultaneously turned and ran out the door.

"Get them!" Optimus's voice roared after them as they fled as fast as their pedes could carry them down the hall. There was the muffled crash of Rattrap's chair overturning from inside the room before the echo of his and Dinobot's footsteps came thundering after them. Almost immediately laserfire began to slice the air around them.

"Ah!" Airazor cried as a green bolt of energy caught the side of her arm.

Tigatron grabbed her hand and pulled her into a branching hallway. "This way!" he cried over the sound of Dinobot and Rattrap's shots. The two scouts ran as if agents of the Pit were nipping at their heels. "I think there's a hatch that leads outside somewhere around here!"

In the distance an escape hatch appeared just as Tigatron had said. "Come on!" he cried, trying to simultaneously shield Airazor from anymore stray blasts and force her faster at the same time. The two scouts threw themselves at the door and into the cool early evening air beyond just as Rattrap and Dinobot turned the corner after them, their weapons blazing. They slammed the hatch behind them and sprinted hand-in-hand away from the Axalon's moonlight drenched bulk as fast as they could.

Airazor was just about to believe that she and Tigatron were going to escape when they heard the hum of Sentinel's gun turrets powering up behind them. "Tigatron!" Airazor cried. There was no way they were going to survive if Sentinel locked onto their energy signatures.

"Come on!" Tigatron called, veering towards the waterfall that thundered into a deep ravine beside the Maximal ship. "It's our only chance!"

Even if Airazor had had a better idea of escape, she had no time to explain it before the first volley of laserfire sounded from the nearest perimeter gun. "Jump!" Tigatron cried as they came to the edge of the cliff. One moment they were flying across solid ground and the next they were plummeting through empty air. The muffled _pomph pomph pomph_ of Sentinel's laser guns exploding against the edge of the cliff sounded high above them. Neither had time to transform before they were suddenly plunged into cold, watery darkness. The scouts' hands were ripped apart by the splash.

"Tigatron!" Airazor shouted as she pushed herself back towards the surface. Almost immediately she was sucked back down under by the current. Tumbling end over end through the swirling vortex of darkness, she blindly kicked against the water. She lost all sense of direction. She could no longer tell what was up or what was down. Nor did she have any idea where her lover had been swept by the swirling rapids. She somehow managed to break the surface again. "Tigatron!" she cried. The flier thought she heard a faint shout from somewhere behind her to her right, but it was immediately lost to her as she was violently slammed into a boulder by the current.

Airazor's visual display flashed white. Her neural receptors were so stunned by the blow that she was completely helpless to fight the current when it pulled her under a third time. She didn't know how long she spent being violently tossed down the river and tumbled end over end before all her sensor nodes began to dull with impending unconsciousness. She felt herself being pulled deeper into the watery blackness but couldn't seem to summon the energy to try and fight her descent. The chill of the water seemed to invade her body and stab at her sparkchamber like a hundred-thousand miniature darts of ice. She felt herself violently slammed into another rock and let herself be swept away into deeper darkness…

Airazor briefly became aware of herself again some time later. The swirling water was gone, replaced by the gritty press of sand against her back struts. Someone was kneeling over her. Purple optics glowed softly down at her through the darkness of early dawn. She thought she detected the murmur of other voices around her. Their words were unintelligible. "Tiga-?" A violent gush of water erupting from her intake line effectively cut her off. She could feel unconsciousness sweeping back over her even as she continued to helplessly cough and sputter against the ground.

"Rest," a deep voice rumbled above her. "We will see to your care."

An intense wave of tiredness was already pulling the water-logged flier back down into oblivion. Inky darkness began to seep across her visual readout, but Airazor wondered if she wasn't already unconscious or dead. Because why else would she hallucinate Megatron of all bot's kneeling over her and promising her his protection?

_Continued?_

Eh. What do you think? Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? I'm not sure if I'll continue this or not. It was written mostly to get this rabid plot bunny out of my head. Your reactions and comments are always welcome.

Signing out  
-LAXgirl


	2. Chapter 2

People seem into this concept, so I'm going to give the second chapter a try. Enjoy!

**Chapter Two**

Consciousness returned slowly to Airazor. The gentle thrum of regenerative nanites up and down her frame and all around her told her that she was in a CR tank of some kind. In her half-aware state she couldn't remember why she would need a CR tank, and the tank's anesthetics made her too tired to really care enough to try and remember. All she wanted to do was relax in this bath of regenerative liquid and let her processor drift away once more into peaceful oblivion.

Wait… Maximals didn't use CR tanks. They used CR _chambers_ that offered their occupants more privacy and forewent the inefficient design of leaving their nanites exposed to airborne contaminates. Over the centuries CR tanks had become mostly a Predacon thing.

Full awareness returned to Airazor as if she'd just been zapped with a high-voltage taser. Bolting upright in the nanite bath, she broke the surface with a watery splash. Struggling to her feet, she scrambled for the edge of the tank. The waist-high liquid - a high density colloidal suspension of nanites and oxygenated saline - proved more difficult for her to slosh through than anticipated and left her drained by the time she finally reached the edge of the tank and half threw herself over its side. A large dose of sedatives still remained in her system. Panting for intakes, she quickly took in her surroundings. She ignored the chorus of startled shouts that sounded from different points around her.

She was in a monstrously large room - the command deck of a starship. Half of the deck's lower level was gone, devoured by an active lava flow running straight through the ship's port side. The bridge's interior was bathed a warm flickering orange by the magma, giving it an almost warm and friendly feel. But Airazor was feeling anything but warm or welcomed right now. She knew where this place was. She was in the middle of the Predacon warship, the Darksyde. Panic rose inside her, driving away the last lingering effects of the CR tank's sedatives. Frantically, she tried to hoist herself out of the bath and over the tank's side.

"Wait," a voice called from Airazor's left. "If you give me a minute I will raise the flooring for you."

Airazor turned to find herself staring at the Predacon mad scientist, Tarantulas. Above him on a different level of the ship, she spotted Inferno and Blackarachnia sitting at a pair of computer consoles. Her panic flared.

"Stay away from me!" she cried. Somehow, she managed to lift herself high enough to get one knee over the edge of the tank and hoist herself up over the side. Her knees crumpled beneath her when she hit the mesh decking below. Drops of nanite bath flew everywhere, forming a magenta puddle underneath her. Apparently, she could have used a little more time in the CR tank... Ignoring the weakness, the flier forced herself to her pedes and scrambled backwards from the startled scientist. Before she could take more than three steps, though, she collided against a solid metal structure. Airazor was sent crashing to her knees by the blow. At first she thought she had unwittingly ran backwards into a wall. But when she looked over her shoulder to see for sure, horror stole all form of cognitive function from her processor. There, towering above her, was none other than Megatron himself.

The Predacon leader stared down at her in startled surprise. His dark silver and blue transmetal superstructure gleamed in the dancing orange glow of the lava flow. "Are you alright?" he asked, reaching a hand down to her.

Airazor recoiled away from him. "Stay away from me! Get back!" Weakly, she tried to rise back to her feet, but her body refused to respond. Her frantic climb out of the CR tank and failed dash for freedom had drained her of what little strength her time in the regenerative bath had given her. She helplessly sagged to the floor, staring up at Megatron in fear. "Don't hurt me! I've done nothing!"

"Airazor!" a familiar voice rang out. "It's alright! He won't harm you!"

Airazor swung around and gasped with relief. "Tigatron!" She reached one hand out to him as he rushed to her side and knelt down beside her. He instantly seized her hand in his own and held onto it. Trembling, the bewildered flier glanced back at the transmetal warlord. "What's going on? How did we get here?" she shakily demanded, still trying to get her feet under her enough to try a second escape.

"They found us," Tigatron said. His grip on her hand was reassuring and strong. "They brought us back here for repairs."

"You were badly damaged," Megatron said. He eyed Airazor apprehensively as though afraid she would bolt from him if he tried to directly speak to her again. The only thing keeping Airazor from doing so was Tigatron's presence beside her. "Blackarachnia and Inferno detected your energy signatures on our ship's scanners. We found you on the bank of the river, your circuits water-clogged. After a brief search, we managed to find Tigatron about a mile upstream from your position. Both of you were unconscious - or nearly so - and would have faced assured stasis-lock if we hadn't found you and brought you back to base."

"You- you saved us?" was Airazor's incredulous reply. She felt her processor beginning to overheat a little.

Megatron looked at her as though he half-suspected she was suffering from some lingering processor-damage from her trip downriver. "Of course. All sentient beings deserve the assistance of a helping hand - whether that being be Maximal, Predacon, enemy, friend or stranger."

Airazor was, by now, too disoriented and confused to know what to make of any of this, and glanced at Tigatron for explanation.

"Things are more different in this world than we were first led to believe," was his answer.

Airazor slowly looked back up at the Predacon leader in front of her. "It seems we have much to discuss," he said, and once more offered a helping hand down to her. The flier at first hesitated, but then timidly slid her hand into his. With a strong but surprisingly gentle tug he pulled her off the ground onto her pedes. "Forgive me if I startled you before," Megatron said. He gave her an embarrassed smile. "Upon first encounters, many believe me to be a gladiator rather than a simple explorer." His expression became serious. "But I suppose such a reaction is to be expected given where you are from and the welcome you received from Optimus Primal and his crew. You were lucky to have made it out of the Axalon alive."

"What's going on?" Airazor said, still trying to wrap her processor around everything that was happening. She desperately glanced at Tigatron as if he had the answers.

"You were more badly damaged from our escape down the river than I was. Because of that I came out of the CR tank first," Tigatron explained. "I was just telling our rescuers about our situation when you woke."

"And what a fascinating situation it is!" Tarantulas excitedly interjected. Bright yellow optics regarded the two scouts like a sparkling eagerly assessing a new puzzle for him to figure out. "A parallel dimension whose occupants possess completely different personalities than this one's. Who would have ever thought we would encounter such an enigma on this alien planet. While you were in the CR tanks I took the opportunity to do some preliminary scans on your systems because of traces of deep space radiation I detected on you. I discovered that although you possess the same energy signatures of the Airazor and Tigatron of this dimension, the actual makeup of your sparks is completely different. Here in this dimension our sparks are composed mainly of protons whereas yours are made of electrons."

"So everything that happened on the Axalon wasn't a dream?" Airazor weakly said. "It was all real?"

Tigatron's facial plates were solemn, his optics filled with the same hopeless yearning as Airazor's that they could still somehow wake up and escape from this hellish nightmare that had become their reality. "I'm afraid so," he softly intoned. He reached out to put a comforting arm around Airazor's back. "Until we find a way back to our own dimension we cannot go back to the Axalon or our former comrades. They will kill us on sight."

"I just don't understand," Airazor shook her head. "Why is Optimus acting like this? When did Maximals start acting like Predacons? How did everything get turned so upside down?"

"Perhaps it would be best if I gave you an overview of the current situation and where everyone stands in it," Megatron said. He gestured towards the upper level of the command bridge. "Come. Let's sit and discuss things. Perhaps then we can make an informed decision on what to do next."

Airazor shot an uncertain glance at Tigatron out of the corner of her optic which he answered with a small shrug. Swallowing her lingering apprehension and doubts about the Predacon leader and his intentions, the flier reluctantly fell into step behind Megatron and followed him onto a large hover-platform. Tigatron stepped onto it beside her. Together the three rose into the air as Megatron piloted it towards the bridge.

"I must apologize for our ship's appearance," Megatron said, moving his hand in a sweeping gesture around the lava filled command deck. "The Darksyde's navigation systems did not have much luck locating a suitable place to crash land when we first arrived on this planet." He tossed the scouts a lopsided smile. "Possibly the only good thing to come from landing in the middle of an active lava flow is the cheery mood lighting." Megatron gave a throaty chuckle at his own joke.

Airazor just stared. If she'd ever thought she'd one day meet Megatron like this and be treated as his houseguest, she would have immediately sought out the nearest CR chamber for a full neurological workup. She had the intense sensation of falling deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole with each passing minute.

"The lava flow also happens to be useful in converting the area's natural thermal energy into a useable power source for the Darksyde's remaining operational systems," Tarantulas called from a second hover-platform to their right. "Otherwise the ship's power core would have gone dark ages ago."

"Which was prevented only by your brilliant idea," Megatron reminded him. "Without Tarantulas's knowledge and scientific skills I'm not sure what would have become of us after we landed here," he said to Airazor and Tigatron.

In total contradiction to everything Airazor had come to know about the Predacon scientist, Tarantulas humbly ducked his head at Megatron's praise. "It was nothing," he mumbled in embarrassment. "If I hadn't thought of it I'm sure someone else would have."

"I highly doubt that, my friend," Megatron said as the two hover platforms glided to a stop beside the ship's main command deck. Inferno and Blackarachnia politely stood from their places by the computer stations as Airazor and Tigatron stepped off the platforms after Megatron and Tarantulas. "Please," Megatron said, gesturing towards the two seats Inferno and Blackarachnia had just vacated. "I imagine you are tired. I doubt you had a sufficient amount of time in the CR tank to fully heal all of your injuries.

Reluctantly - still slightly overwhelmed by everything that was happening - Airazor sat in the proffered chair. She wasn't about to admit just how right Megatron was. She felt unusually drained of energy and stiff. One side of her superstructure from her shoulder and the way down to her hip throbbed with the dull, residual ache of being smashed into river rocks at high speeds. Tigatron took the seat beside her. Now seated and as comfortable as she could be under the circumstances, the flier tried to relax under the gaze of the four Predacons staring back at her from the loose semi-circle they'd formed around her. Surprisingly, she felt no ill-will, hatred or suspicion from them. Only an intense sense of curiosity.

"So you two are from a different dimension, huh?" Blackarachnia broke the silence. It was obvious she was trying hard not to stare too much at the two scouts, but innocent curiosity burned in the femme's yellow optics. "Don't hear about something like that happening everyday…"

Unlike the Blackarachnia Airazor knew from her dimension, this Blackarachnia did not seem to possess the same aura of self-assured smugness or molten undercurrent of unchecked sexuality as her counterpart. This Blackarachnia was different - more subdued and shy; just like the color scheme of her superstructure was different - a more feminine combination of black and magenta armor plating. Despite her better judgment considering just _who_ she was talking to, Airazor felt a little of her anxiety melt away. "You can say that again," she tiredly murmured.

"We know of your origins, but perhaps it would be good to explain some of the things here in our dimension now," Megatron said. The other Predacons all immediately quieted and turned to give him their attention. Airazor was surprised by the amount of respect they showed him through the action. The feeling she'd always gotten from the Predacons of her dimension was that the only reason Megatron commanded so much control over his troops was because of the ever-present threat of violence he would unleash on them if they didn't obey. This Megatron, however, didn't seem to need to resort to such crass displays of authority. The authority he possessed was freely given to him by his crew through mutual respect.

Sitting back in the bridge's command chair Megatron regarded them now from an equal optic-level. Airazor wondered if he'd done this intentionally to put them on equal grounds as a polite show of respect. "Just as in your dimension, we are stranded on planet Earth several million years in the past. My original crew and I were sent by the Tri-Predacus Council to search for uninhabited planets rich in natural resources that could be harvested and converted into energon for our home planet's use. Unfortunately, just as we reached the outer ring of Cybertron's satellites, we received word that Optimus Primal, a rogue commander of the Maximal army, had stolen an artifact from the Great Archives. We were the only ship in the area close enough to intercept him and were sent to try and retrieve it. Unfortunately, during the ensuing battle he activated the Axalon's transwarp drive in an attempt to get away. The Darksyde was pulled into the transwarp tunnel after him. When we emerged on the other side both ships were heavily damaged and were sent into freefall towards the planet's surface."

Megatron paused, his facial plates darkening. "We did not know it when we first engaged Primal in battle, but over the last few stellar cycles he had begun secretly accumulating unactivated protoforms in order to eventually raise his own personal army. When it became obvious the ships were going to crash land, Optimus ejected the protoforms' stasis-pods into orbit around the planet. His philosophy was that if he couldn't use those protoforms than no one was going to. He was willing to sacrifice dozens of innocent lives to the vacuum of space for his own petty pride." The Predacon commander's voice simmered with indignant anger.

"Luckily, in the time since arriving here a number of the stasis-pods have been knocked out of orbit and sent to the planet's surface. My crew and I are on constant watch for them. When a stasis-pod falls out of orbit we try to retrieve it before Primal can. When Optimus was still amassing protoforms as the foundation for his personal army, he had each protoform installed with a new set of codes that override all inherent programming and basically turn the protoforms into mindless battle-drones when they are brought online. My crew and I try our best to retrieve each stasis-pod so that the protoforms inside can be stripped of Primal's battle programming and brought online as a free-thinking 'bots, but we are not always successful. The Airazor and Tigatron of this dimension are perfect examples of that…"

Airazor was unable to completely stop herself from shuddering at the implications of Megatron's story.

Megatron, meanwhile, seemed to withdraw into himself and a cloud of unpleasant memories. "Despite our best attempts to free as many new protoforms from Primal's control as we can and recruit them to the Predacon resistance, we have suffered just as many losses as wins starting with my own second-in-command absconding to the Maximals shortly after crash landing."

"You mean Dinobot," Tigatron inferred.

Megatron stiffly nodded.

"How'd that happen?" Airazor asked. "In our dimension Dinobot switched sides because he disagreed with our dimension's Megatron and felt he could lead the Predacons better than him."

Megatron frowned, his optics staring emptily past the two Maximals into space. "For reasons not nearly so noble as that," was his quiet reply.

"Dinobot was a complete coward," Tarantulas angrily interjected.

"A traitor," Inferno agreed.

"He was captured by Primal's crew during our first battle after landing here," Megatron explained in an empty voice. "He was given the choice by Optimus to either renounce his Predacon ties and join Primal's crew or be deactivated. He chose the former. Although I do not necessarily fault him for choosing life over immediate death, he has made no attempt in the ensuing time to escape, and in fact willingly joins Primal in his campaigns against us."

The pain Airazor heard in the Predacon commander's voice was startling. "He was your friend," she said in dawning realization.

Megatron nodded. "Yes. My best friend and closest companion. Although he never possessed the strongest character and was easily swayed by others' opinions, he was like a brother to me. In all our years together I never once thought him capable of being party to such cruelty and reckless hate like Primal stands for. I still have yet to fully come to terms with the pain of his betrayal."

"I'm sorry," Airazor murmured.

Megatron shook his head. "He has chosen his path... There is nothing more I can do to bring Dinobot back to our side that I haven't already tried." As though deciding he'd had his fill of talk concerning his former friend, he swiftly changed topics. "Although we've managed to prevent Blackarachnia and Inferno from falling into Optimus's control, several months ago we lost our friends, Terrorsaur and Scorponok, in the alien quantum surge. We have been struggling to keep Primal from overrunning us and completely stripping the planet of its natural energon deposits since. In addition, we've lost all contact with Waspinator after he went out on patrol two days ago. We have not heard anything from him since."

Airazor and Tigatron shared agonized glances. The look did not go unnoticed by Megatron and the other Predacons.

"Have you seen Waspinator?" Inferno demanded, his antennas perking slightly. "Do you know what's happened to him?" His expression was a mixture of anxiety, worry and tentative hope. The same emotions were mirrored in the faces of all the others.

Airazor could not bear the look of hopeful desperation on their faces and hastily dropped her gaze to the floor. Her intake line constricted at the rush of images that invaded her memory banks of the green flier's last few minutes of function.

"I am sorry, but… he was killed by Optimus just before we escaped the Axalon," Tigatron sorrowfully announced.

"They tortured him to death," Airazor said, her vocal processor hitching slightly with the lingering horrors of that day. "They wanted to know about some kind of plans, but Waspinator kept saying he didn't know anything. Optimus finally got frustrated and deactivated him…"

Although none of the assembled Predacons seemed particularly surprised by this, the deflated hope and quiet agony on their facial plates made Airazor's spark constrict with guilt. "If we had known that Optimus was planning to kill him… If there had been anything we could have done to save him-" but she could not find the strength to finish her thoughts. Anything she would have said would have only sounded like empty excuses for what she'd allowed happen right in front of her.

Megatron sorrowfully turned away and hung his head. Blackarachnia expression crumpled, which she tried to hide behind her pinchers. His own facial plates twisted with grief, Inferno reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder plate. Tarantulas seemed too consumed by quiet sorrow to do anything more than emptily stare at the ground in front of him, his shoulders slumped.

"How many more lives must be lost before this war is finally over?" Megatron finally found his voice. His hands balled into two shaking fists on his chair's armrests. Although the question was rhetorical, Airazor felt the agonized, angry confusion in the mech's deep voice. "How many more?"

Surging to his pedes if for no other reason than to alleviate some of his restless grief, Megatron paced back and forth across the command deck for several moments before finally turning back towards Tigatron and Airazor. "Did Waspinator tell the Maximals anything?"

Airazor shook her head. "No," she murmured. "He kept saying he didn't know anything. I think they continued to torture him just out of spite after they realized he didn't have any useful information to give them."

"But he did," Megatron solemnly corrected. "Waspinator was an integral component of a strike I had planned against the Axalon in the near future. He went out on patrol the day he was captured to gather detailed scans of the topography around the Maximals' ship. He knew everything Primal wanted to know, but kept that information secret despite everything he was forced to suffer. I cannot even begin to imagine what kind of torture he endured under that Maximal interrogations officer, Rattrap's, hands before he was finally granted release into the Matrix…"

"He remained as strong in death as he was in life," Inferno reverently murmured.

Megatron nodded. "He was one of the noblest bots I've ever had the privilege to know."

Blackarachnia gently shook Inferno's hand off her, her bearing once again strong and collected despite the sorrow still etched into her facial plates. "It was horrible how Waspinator died, but maybe his death wasn't a complete tragedy. He hasn't been the same ever since that quantum surge. You all know how depressed he was after Terrorsaur died. I think in a way this was probably an escape for him. At least now he and Terrorsaur are together in the Matrix."

The other three Predacons all solemnly digested this idea. For several minutes complete silence reigned over the command deck.

"I do not want to pry considering the impact Waspinator's death has had on you, but what was your plan?" Tigatron finally mustered the courage to break the silence.

Megatron's reply was subdued, his entire demeanor tainted with grief. "We had planned to make a preemptive strike against the Axalon sometime next week. Over the last month we have detected an increased amount of repairs being done on the ship. We suspect Primal is trying to somehow repair the Axalon and make it space-worthy again. We cannot let that happen. If Primal were able to leave planet Earth and return to Cybertron with the stockpile of energon he's managed to amass over the course of the Beast Wars, he would finally have the resources he needs to start a second Great War. He would lead the Maximals in a coup and topple the government. He would unleash chaos, death and destruction onto Cybertron on an unthinkable scale, destroying everything and everyone that stands in his way. Even if it means dying or destroying our own chances of ever returning to our home planet we cannot let Primal leave Earth."

Megatron heavily sat back down in the command chair, massaging one side of his helm with his fingertips as though fighting to stave off the renewed hopelessness of their situation. "But now, with Waspinator gone, we are outnumbered and out-gunned. There's no way we can take on the Maximals and hope to actually win. Sentinel is too powerful for only four bots to take on, let alone without any detailed intelligence on the ship's defense systems."

Airazor glanced at Tigatron, their optics meeting in silent agreement.

"What if we helped you?" Airazor tentatively said.

All four Predacons stared at her.

"You would help us?" Inferno said. His optics narrowed suspiciously. "Why? You are Maximals."

"Because the Maximals of this dimension are not the same as the Maximals of ours," Airazor replied. "The Optimus we know would never torture or kill an enemy prisoner. The Optimus we know would never seek to destroy our home planet. But this Optimus must be stopped. I won't let the names of factions get in the way of what I know is right and wrong. Even though I carry a Maximal symbol on my superstructure I won't let that stop me from doing what I know is right." Tigatron nodded in agreement.

Megatron pushed himself to his pedes and strode up to where they sat. Leaning down over them, he placed a hand on each of their shoulders and smiled in grateful relief. "Then let me be the first to formally welcome you to the Predacons, my new friends. Perhaps with your help we can finally put an end to the Beast Wars and Optimus Primal's tyranny once and for all."

_to be continued…_

Thoughts, comments, questions? It was actually a bit more difficult to switch around established characters' personalities than I was expecting. Feedback, as always, is encouraged and appreciated.

Signing out  
-LAXgirl


	3. Chapter 3

People have been asking where Silverbolt and Quickstrike are. I never forgot about them. I've just been saving them for a delayed appearance.

* * *

"I know this may sound strange, but I have to ask," Airazor said. "If the Predacons are the good guys in this dimension, why is your ship still called the Darksyde? It sounds a little bit… _dark,_ don't you think?"

Megatron stood on the other side of the Darksyde's holographic display table across from her. For the last few mega-cycles he and Airazor had been pouring over topographical scans the Predacons had managed to take of the Axalon and its surrounding area. The scans were rudimentary - not containing much in the way of geographical details or the exact locations of Sentinel's perimeter guns. Airazor had been working with the Predacon commander to fill in the gaps. Around the bridge, the rest of the crew worked at different computer terminals. Airazor didn't know what Tigatron was working on with Tarantulas, but the two seemed to be getting along well at one of them.

"Yes, I suppose Darksyde does have a sinister ring to it," Megatron agreed. An amused chuckle rumbled his massive chest. "The ship's name, though, was suppose to be more of a joke than anything else. It's sister ship was named the Lightscape. I suppose the manufacturers wanted to establish some kind of dichotomy between the two. I, unfortunately, was assigned the "evil" one of the twins when I took command of this exploration."

Airazor was once again struck by an intense sense of surrealism. In her dimension she never would have imagined Megatron having an ironic sense of humor. It felt very strange to admit - almost _profane_ considering the death and destruction the Megatron of her dimension had caused - but she enjoyed this Predacon leader's company and felt an instinctive trust towards him. She could easily see herself following him into battle the same way she had followed the Optimus Primal of her dimension.

"So how were you planning to come in towards the Axalon?" she asked, looking back down at the three dimensional hologram.

Megatron pointed to a spot on the western side of the map. "From here. The original plan was for Waspinator to fly in over the ship and knock out the Axalon's defensive array here, here, and here. Those are the only spots we have found where Sentinel is weak to outside attacks. But they are extremely difficult targets. Waspinator was our only hope of succeeding. He was the faster flier we had. Not even Terrorsaur could match his skills in the air when he was still alive. After Sentinel was crippled, the plan was then for the rest of us to attack and use an explosive on the ship's lower hull to permanently disable the Axalon from ever achieving space-readiness again."

Airazor shook her head. "It wouldn't have worked. Not too long ago - at least in my dimension - Optimus had extra gun turrets installed here and here." She pointed to two points on the map close to where the Predacons had been planning to launch their attack. "If there are any Sentinel posts there like the ones in my dimension, you'd be caught in a crossfire before you ever got within a hundred yards of the ship. Your aerial scans are incomplete so we have to assume that the Optimus of this dimension made the same changes as the one from mine."

She studied the map for a pause of silence. "If you want to attack the Axalon your best bet would be to send in two fliers simultaneously from the north and south. It would force Sentinel to lock onto two moving targets instead of just one and raise your chances of hitting those weak spots. From what I once overheard Rattrap say, it's one of Sentinel's major weaknesses - at least on the dorsal side of the ship. It has a slow reaction time locking onto multiple targets at once. As for the ground forces, you should station your men here and here." She pointed at two locations on the map to the east and southeast. "Even if Sentinel were still partially operational after the aerial strike, you'd be in less risk of being hit by any of the ship's other outer defenses because of the gun turrets' placement in these locations. You could take cover in the surrounding hillsides and wouldn't be as exposed as you would be from your original starting point."

Megatron digested this for a long moment of silence. He studied the map with a thoughtful expression. He stood with one arm wrapped across the front of his chest with his other elbow propped up on his forearm and the side of his forefinger pressed to his bottom lip. "You're right," he finally said. "We would have been gunned down before we were ever able to even launch our attack." He looked up from the map and gave Airazor a lop-sided grin. "For as strange as the circumstances surrounding your arrival here are, and the oddness of collaborating with you considering what your alternate selves were like in this dimension, I must admit I am extremely grateful for you and Tigatron coming when you did. With your help we might yet be able to stop Primal from returning to Cybertron and starting a second Great War."

Airazor returned Megatron's smile. At least she wasn't the only one still getting used to their situation. If only the bots back home could be here and see Megatron and the rest of their former enemies now. They'd never believe it.

A series of frantic beeps suddenly sounded from the bridge's main computer console. Airazor, Megatron and the rest of the crew all turned towards it. Inferno was the nearest. Springing out of his seat he rushed to the computer.

"Megatron, our scanners are picking up two incoming emergency signals. They appear to be stasis pods!"

"Stasis pods?" Megatron said.

"Yes, sir," Inferno nodded. "And two of them according to the scans. Their landing trajectory puts them not far from our northern border."

Megatron's expression became tight with urgency. "Blackarachnia, Inferno. You two are to remain here and guard the base. Tarantulas, you're with me. I need your software hacking skills to deactivate Primal's battle programming. I want the protoforms in those pods to come online as free-thinking bots. I won't let Primal claim anymore innocent lives for his war effort, no."

As the Predacons hurried to their new tasks, Airazor glanced across the bridge and caught Tigatron's optics. The same silent thought was shared between them.

_Silverbolt and Quickstrike._

It had to be them. So far Airazor had seen no hint of the two fuzors in this dimension. But if this dimension followed the timeline of theirs in any way, these stasis pods had to contain Silverbolt and Quickstrike. They were the last stasis pods knocked out of orbit in their dimension, and the only twin fall to occur. It _had_ to be them…

"I think I know who might be in those pods," Airazor said as Megatron walked around the holo-table towards the nearest hover platform. "You have to let Tigatron and me come with you. We can help."

Megatron shook his head. "Tarantulas and I can move quicker alone. Nor do we want to alert the Maximals to our movement in case they didn't detect those stasis pods on their own scanners yet. We have to hurry and remove Primal's battle programming from the protoforms' operating software before they come online."

"But we _know_ one of those bots! We fought beside Silverbolt countless times as our comrade. For as strange as it is for me to say, I don't want to see him become a Maximal in this dimension. I can't stand to think of him as some kind of murdering psychopath! If there's anything I can do, I want to help bring him online like the Silverbolt I know in our dimension."

Megatron studied Airazor for a long moment. "Very well," he reluctantly nodded. "You and Tigatron can help keep watch while Tarantulas deactivates the protoforms' battle programming."

Airazor gratefully dipped her head to him. "Thank you."

They moved quickly. Within forty-five minutes the four of them reached the area the Darksyde's scanners had detected the stasis pods' emergency beacons. A wasteland of scorched earth spread out around them in all directions - a lasting reminder of the alien quantum surge that had almost destroyed Earth several months before. The only things to break up the otherwise empty landscape was the twisted remains of heat-blackened trees. Gliding on a warm thermal draft in beast-mode, Airazor scanned the ground below. Megatron flew beside her, his beast-mode's jet engines droning loudly. Below them, Tigatron and Tarantulas sped across the charred ground. Tigatron's snow white figure stood out brightly against the charred landscape.

"Where do you think the stasis pods are?" she called to Megatron over the rush of wind. "We have to be getting close to them."

"Because of the damage the Darksyde sustained when we crash landed, our scanners are now only accurate to within a mile radius of a target."

Airazor returned her gaze to the scorched land. "Even for an area that big, you'd think a stasis pod would stand out in a place like this."

"Not necessarily," Megatron said. "If the pods were scorched from entry through the planet's atmosphere, it's possible they could blend into the surrounding- There!" Megatron's gaze was locked on something about half a mile away to their right. "I see them! Tarantulas, follow me," he called into his comm-link.

"I see them too," Tarantulas replied over the link.

The four sped towards the pods. As they neared Airazor saw that the stasis pods had indeed been scorched from their passage through the atmosphere and blended almost seamlessly into the ash-colored earth. Airazor and Megatron dropped down out of the sky beside the nearest of the two pods and transformed. The other lay several dozen feet away. Tigatron and Tarantulas skid to a stop behind them and smoothly converted to their own robot forms.

"Tarantulas, you know what you have to do." Megatron motioned to the nearest of the two pods.

"Already on it," the scientist said. Jogging up to it, he dropped to his knees beside the pod. He removed a packet of tools from a sub-space compartment on his forearm. With a small screwdriver he pried open a panel on the pod's side. The panel's charred sides stuck for a moment before coming loose with a hollow clang. A bundle of different colored wires and circuit boards spilled out of the opening like the intestines of a gutted animal. Tarantulas immediately got to work: cutting wires and attaching them to a small handheld computer drive.

Airazor scanned the stasis pod for any distinguishing features, but couldn't see anything to indicate whether it was Silverbolt or Quickstrike's stasis pod Tarantulas was hacking into.

"Are the protoforms still alive?" Tigatron asked as Tarantulas' device lit and its LCD screen filled with lines of code.

Tarantulas nodded. "Yes. At least this stasis pod's protoform is. My readings also indicate the pod's already scanned for a suitable organic life form and synthesized a beast-mode for the protoform."

"Hurry then," Megatron said. "That means the protoforms could come online at any moment. And I would rather that happen with Primal's battle programming _not_ activated." He turned to Airazor and Tigatron. "Help me secure a perimeter. I have no doubt Primal has by now detected the stasis pods' emergency beacons. Who knows how long we have before he gets here."

The two Maximals nodded and drew their weapons. The three of them spread out around Tarantulas and the stasis pods in a loose circle. Minutes crawled by as Tarantulas tapped line after line of code into the pod's operating system.

"Almost there," he muttered between his mandibles. His optics were narrowed with concentration.

"Hurry," Megatron urged. His entire superstructure was rigid with tension as he scanned the horizon for approaching enemies.

"Done!" Tarantulas finally cried. He unhooked his equipment and punched the release button on the pod's keypad. The front hatch sprang open with a pneumatic hiss of pressurized air. There was a muffled thump of movement inside. Airazor, Tigatron and Megatron all moved closer.

_Please be Silverbolt. Please be Silverbolt,_ Airazor silently begged.

Another thud sounded inside the pod, and an emerald green pincher squeezed through the hatch opening. More of a segmented limb followed before the hatch was pushed completely open by its occupant. As the two Maximals and two Predacons watched, a transmetal green scorpion awkwardly crawled out of the pod as though he were having trouble manipulating his numerous legs. In the place of a stinger at the end of his tail was instead the head of a green garden snake. Its pale yellow eyes shined brightly in the dull light.

"Quickstrike," Airazor murmured in disappointment.

"If you say so, ma'am," the fuzor drawled. His voice was garbled as if he were still trying to fully wake up from the stasis pod's hibernation serum. He finally seemed to get a hold of himself and looked around. "Where'm I?"

Megatron stepped forward. "You just woke from an extended stasis-sleep on planet Earth. My name is Megatron, commander of Predacon space explorations. This is Tarantulas, Tigatron and Airazor. We saved you from falling victim to Optimus Primal - leader of a rogue group of Maximal mercenaries - control."

"How's come you're all taller than me?" Quickstrike said. "How's come I got all these legs and claws?"

"It is because of your beast-mode. Just call out your name and the order, 'transform!' and you will transform to your true shape," Tarantulas explained. "Your alternate form is to protect you from this planet's energon surges."

The fuzor seemed unsure, but obediently called out, "Quickstrike, transform!" In a flurry of shifting limbs and armored plates, the fuzor reformed into a stocky green mech.

"Well, I'll be," he drawled in awe as he looked himself up and down. The snake head on his arm flicked its tongue in the air.

"Come on," Airazor said. "We still have to get Silverbolt."

"Yes," Tarantulas agreed. He began to gather his tools. "One down, one to go."

Unfortunately, just as the small recovery team turned towards the last pod a grenade exploded against the ground directly between them and it. The five were knocked backwards off their pedes by the blast.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" a familiar voice called out from above. "Looks like the annoying little do-gooders are trying to steal my property. When are you going to learn, Megatron, that these pods and the protoforms inside them are mine?"

Airazor looked up to see Optimus hovering several dozen feet above them in the air on his jet board. His armor gleamed a dark, malevolent purple.

"They are not yours to claim, Primal!" Megatron yelled as he pushed himself back to his feet. "I won't let you destroy anymore lives with your twisted greed and delusions."

"We'll see about that," Optimus growled. The end of the plasma cannon on his forearm glowed hot.

The rumble of engines sounded to the recovery team's right as two bots skid to a stop below Optimus. Rattrap and Cheetor transformed with twin calls of "terrorize!"

"Look wha' we got here, spots," Rattrap said as he eyed the group of Predacons. His optics zeroed in on Tigatron and Airazor. "If it ain't da two traitors dat got away." He flashed each of them a grin that dripped with sadistic glee. "I can't wait ta get you two into an interrogation cell. I've got a number of toys lined up 'specially fer you."

An involuntary chill ran down the length of Airazor's back.

"Who says anything about taking them back to base alive?" Cheetor growled. He leveled a blaster at them. "None of them are going to be walking away from this."

"Destroy them!" Optimus bellowed. "Then activate that last pod and wake my newest soldier!"

"No!" Airazor cried as the scorched plain became a battlefield. Laserfire, bullets and plasma charges flew through the air in both directions.

"Tarantulas!" Megatron yelled over the cacophony of battle. "Get to that pod and deactivate its battle programming! You're the only one that can!"

"I'm trying!" Tarantulas called back as he ducked to the side just in time to dodge an explosive from Rattrap. The ground shook with the concussive force of it half a second after a brilliant flash of heat lit the air. The scientist was sent flying into the ground by the blast.

Airazor broke off firing on Optimus and hurried to Tarantulas's side. "You okay?"

Tarantulas painfully pushed himself up. Two of his spider legs on his right side were bent backwards and scorched black. Mech-fluid dripped from several gashes on his back from flying pieces of shrapnel from Rattrap's bomb. "No," he rasped. "But I have to get to that pod."

"I'll cover you," Airazor yelled as another bomb exploded half a dozen feet from them. She helped pull Tarantulas onto his pedes. "You can't let Silverbolt come online as a Maximal!"

"I'm afraid that's going to happen whether you want it to or not," a voice rumbled behind her. Airazor whirled around to find herself suddenly staring into her former commander's optics. Optimus raised his plasma cannon. "If I wasn't in such a hurry to claim that stasis pod I'd take more time to make your last few moments of life full of pain. Traitor," he hissed. "You had your chance to join me and you threw it away to fight for Megatron and his pathetic little band of heroes. That will prove to be the biggest mistake of your function. _No one_ turns their back on Optimus Primal and lives to tell about it." He aimed his weapon at the flier's chest. The end of the plasma cannon glowed white with charged energy.

But before he could unleash his vengeance on Airazor, an energy blast caught Optimus in the side, knocking his arm away from Airazor. Another energy blast exploded against the ground near the Maximal warlord's feet, forcing him back several more feet.

"Stay away from them, Primal," Megatron called as he stalked towards the tyrant. "Your fight is with me."

Behind him, Tigatron and Quickstrike were locked in a firefight with Rattrap and Cheetor.

"Megatron," Optimus snarled. The name was spat like a curse. He turned to fully face the Predacon commander. "I will teach you once and for all not to interfere with my plans."

Megatron spared Airazor and Tarantulas a quick glance. "Go! Get to the stasis pod."

Airazor nodded. "Come on!" she yelled as Megatron and Optimus met in a terrific clash of metal and laserfire. Tarantulas's entire back was coated in a thick layer mech-fluid now. One of his broken legs dangled over his shoulder from nothing more than a few shorting wires. Airazor could only imagine how painful his injuries must be.

Yet somehow the scientist managed to swallow his pain and stand straight. Limping towards the pod, he half-lowered himself, half-dropped to his knees beside it. Airazor took point behind him. Mech-fluid from his mutilated back ran down the length of his arm and coated his hand in a slippery glove of purple fluid as he fumbled with his tools. The head of his screwdriver slipped several times against the side of the access panel before he finally managed to wedge it underneath the edge and pry it loose. He immediately began sorting wires and attaching them to his hacking device. Airazor couldn't help but notice the slight trembling of his hands as he worked. His injuries must have been even more painful than they appeared.

_Hurry, hurry, hurry,_ Airazor silently chanted as lines of code filled the device's LCD screen. Tarantulas furiously tapped at its miniature keyboard.

"Almost got it," he muttered. "Just one more code command…"

A terrific explosion sounded from the other side of the battlefield. Airazor thought she heard Tigatron cry out over the blast.

"Oh no ya don't!" Rattrap's voice rang out. Airazor turned towards it just as a laser blast shot past her over Tarantulas's shoulder into the side of the stasis pod. Tarantulas's device was ripped from the stasis pod's internal circuitry by the blow.

"No!" he cried.

Before Airazor could ask if he had finished deactivating Optimus's programming or not, the hatch of the stasis pod eased open with a drawn out hiss. Rattrap's blast had disengaged the door latch. Tarantulas and Airazor both backed away from the pod as a sable-colored wing slowly unfolded from inside it into the air. As Airazor stared in a horrified daze, a monstrous black wolf slunk out over the side of the pod, its eyes two points of molten hellfire. Raven wings sprouted from its back. Razor-sharp talons made up the beast's front legs.

"Silverbolt… no," Airazor whispered. They hadn't been fast enough…

The fuzor turned its shaggy head towards her. "Is that my name?" he growled. Airazor saw the glint of yellow fangs between his lips as he spoke. "Yes… That must be my name. It is a name that rings of speed. Like the sound of death swooping down on its victim deep in the night." The fuzor chuckled darkly. "I like it. I will keep this name."

More gunfire and explosions sounded behind them. Silverbolt turned towards it. The Predacons and Maximals were locked in battle, their fighting almost evenly matched. Silverbolt's lips curled back from his teeth in a wolfish grin. "Battle… The sound of it calls to me like music…"

So entranced by this horrifying version of the once proud and noble mech she knew, Airazor was startled back to the present only by the sound of Optimus's voice calling out to them from the other side of the battlefield. Half of Megatron's upper right arm was gone - blown away at some point by the Maximal warlord. Yet still he fought even as Optimus turned his attention to the newest recruit of their war.

"Then join me, Silverbolt. And I will unleash you on as many battlefields as you desire. With me I will give you your fill of battle and destruction. With me you will make the ground run purple with the mech-fluid of all those that dare to stand in my way of galactic conquest."

"No!" Megatron angrily cried, but was cut off by another plasma blast from Optimus, forcing him to duck away.

"Destruction… yes," Silverbolt grinned. "I do like the sound of that. And the promise of mech-fluid. It is such a delicious treat, after all."

Optimus grinned. "Then you will have it. Begin your feast with those two Predacons there." He pointed at Airazor and Tarantulas. "Make their deaths painful and slow."

The fuzor turned back towards Airazor and Tarantulas. Blood lust gleamed in his eyes as he looked the two up and down. His tongue hungrily lolled out of his mouth and licked at the sides of his muzzle. "I will enjoy tearing you two apart." His gaze fell on Tarantulas and stayed there. "I only wish you were not already injured. It is so much more fun when the prey actually gives you a chase."

"Megatron, we have to retreat!" Airazor cried into her comm-link. "We've lost Silverbolt. This battle's over."

There was an answering click on the other side of the link.

"Predacons! Retreat!" Megatron's voice boomed over the drone of battle.

The fuzor began his advance on them as though he hadn't heard. "Silverbolt, terrorize!" In the blink of an eye the monstrous raven-wolf transformed into a black-plated mech. With his feathered black wings he looked just like the harbinger of Death itself.

Airazor turned to Tarantulas. His facial plates had begun to turn dull from fluid-loss. "Can you transform like this?"

"No other choice but to try," he said. With an obvious amount of pain, the scientist folded down against himself into his wheeled alt-mode.

"Go!" Airazor called to him as she rocketed into the air. "I'll meet you back at the Darksyde."

Tarantulas sped away in a cloud of kicked up ash. Around the battlefield, Tigatron and the other Predacons all transformed and scattered.

"I'm afraid I can't let you leave the party so soon," Silverbolt growled after Airazor from the ground. He spread his wings out behind him, ready to follow her into the air. "We haven't even begun to play yet."

Airazor turned back towards him. Her blaster hummed in her hand. "I'm sorry, Silverbolt," she sorrowfully whispered. "I wasn't fast enough to save you." Then taking aim at the fuzor's chest, Airazor fired.

Silverbolt howled as the laser blast exploded against his front plating. He staggered backwards several feet, his chest smoking.

Wasting no time, Airazor turned and fled from the twisted nightmare of her former comrade as quickly as she could. Whether it was because Optimus had decided not to chase them or the other Predacons had suffered more damage in the fight than she was aware of, the Maximals did not pursue.

The flight back to the Darksyde felt like it took twice as long as before. The mission had not been a complete failure. They had managed to save Quickstrike from falling into Maximal hands and had freed him from Optimus's battle programming. But while the Predacons could claim partial victory that day, Airazor felt as if they had just suffered the most devastating loss possible. Despite her best efforts to save her friend and comrade, Silverbolt had joined the ranks of Optimus's Maximals and become what she had so desperately tried to prevent: a bloodthirsty killer. Airazor didn't know what was worse: losing Silverbolt to these twisted versions of the Maximals or the knowledge that the next time she met her former comrade in battle her shots would have to be aimed to kill.

To Be Continued…

Good? Bad? What'd you think? Is the story still standing up to expectations?


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